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User blog:Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter/Sneak Peek of the Next Story
Okay, so I finally persuaded myself to write a little. Maybe, I shouldn't be giving you this yet, as it's all I have written and the actual story will probably not be here for long, but here I am writing this. Without further ado, here is the story: The particular piece of story is dedicated to Harold. For Alchemists aren't the only ones. “I, for one, don't see how this plan would be any good. I wouldn't like to deal with any of his sort”, Lord Paddleton shared his opinion rather loudly. “But haven't you heard Odcysgod's last achievement?” Count Baretone, minister for economics, seemed to be of the other opinion. “He defeated the Tarmon Demon for brick's sake. We could do with that kind of power!” “That just shows that we shouldn't hire him”, Baron Hilion disagreed. “It's clear that anyone able to outpower and outwit one of hells' abominable demons must be a devil himself. Only with devilry can you fight devilry!” “And what about that other case where he liberated that village of its terrible plague?” Lord Belos enquired. “Well, that one is obvious. If one puts the matter down and sees it under the light of reasion, he will quickly come to the conclusion that the plague did not occur any earlier than the Magicians' arrival. So, I deduce he caused it in the first place!” Duke Delamon, minister for interior affairs, seneschal and prime minister. “And why would he do that”, a lowly Baronet, whose name is not worth remembering to write here, “if he was to undo it in the end?”. “But to make himself look good, of course”, the prime minister replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “People like Odcysgod like to show off their powers. It's not good enough for them to just possess them. They want people's admiration and adoration. Vanity is not a sin sorcerers lack”. “There's no sin that demons lack!” Lord Hamilton spoke fanatically. More examples of Odcysgod's conduct were brought forth. The Beast of Chertwood; The Necromancer at Yore; the Brayton Bridge Troll. Each and every one of them was dismissed and contradicted. The Beast was just a pet let loose by accident; the story of Yore was so exaggerated not the littlest part of it could any longer be believed at all; the Troll at Brayton Bridge had been taken down, because it had personally offended the Magician and not for any other reason. The King's councilmen looked to be on the verge of a real quarrel. It wasn't really that uncommon, but the King really wished to avoid it; loud voices overlapping each other brought him head aches. He stood up from his chair with a suddenness that surprised even himself, his several trinkets jingling and his overgrown belly swaying. Once the King had recovered from the resulted dizziness, he raised his hands to call for silence. The men in the room, Aesregnum's most important men, did not seem to notice that gesture and instead seemed to grow louder. The King was getting fast annoyed and he felt a tantrum coming. Suddenly, silence fell, spreading through the room with such speed it almost felt tangible. The King was satisfied with the respect, authority, awe and even fear his figure inspired. He proceeded to sit down back at his chair, at the top of the oval stone table, as his legs had begun to hurt by the fatigue of having to stand so long. However, when he was sat down, he realised that he was not the one to whom the respect, the authority, the awe and the fear belonged to. At the centre of the table, the impressive figure of the wrinkliest old man the King had ever seen was receiving the room's whole attention. The wrinkles around the white-haired and -bearded man's eyes shaped a permanent frown that was most unpleasant to look at. However, the brown eyes themselves were a lot more uncomfortable as they focused on him, they seemed to peer right through him and into his soul and they certainly looked judging. The King avoided to look at those eyes, but he could still feel the aura of power and influence the man seemed to emanate; the air they breathed on, the stone of the table, the wood of the chairs they sat on, even the fabric of their own clothes were much more in league with him than they were with any other. The King was surprised at these thoughts -cleverer as they were than he was; he'd never noticed such things before. Then the man opened his mouth and the silence, a lot like a spell of its own, was broken: “Well, gentlemen! I am here. What did you call me here for?”. Category:Blog posts